


In Control

by prescellphone



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4857959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prescellphone/pseuds/prescellphone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya realizes how much he actually depends on his partners. Gallya through and through</p>
<p>Music: Let It All Go by Rhodes + Birdy</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Control

**Author's Note:**

> So this was the very first Gallya fic I wrote. It was only after seeing the movie one time and after a 4 year break on writing. My best friend was absolutely ecstatic that I sent her some of my writing, considering I wrote all through middle school and part of high school but never let anyone read anything. I completely freaked out when she explained how much she loved it. Although, she said Gaby was a little out of character and I semi-agree/disagree. I love the idea of Gaby being a little weak when it comes to Illya. Enjoy!

       

* * *

 

       Illya always had his life in control. Or at least, he _tried_ to keep everything in control. His parents were a huge misfortune that led to the creation of a small, terrifying part of himself. Terrifying because it took all of his will power to keep it in check when it came bursting through the seams, and small because his new comrades had proven that there was something more residing under his skin. But other than his sudden urges to murder a man with his bare hands, Illya believed everything was in control. Until UNCLE, Solo, and of course Gaby barged into his life. From that point on, it seemed like all of the control Illya had over his life transformed into random events, like a girl screaming his name as he was thrown from his bike and a man trusting Illya to save him from an electric chair. These events seemed more in control of his life than Illya was willing to admit.

       Either way, waking up in a hotel with no clue on how he got there was not something Illya expected, and his first thought was that the control he thought he had was slipping away from him and falling on the shoulders of two people. Those exact two people’s voices began to rise in volume as he groggily woke up.

       “Peril is too stubborn. He won’t go for it,” Napoleon spoke from across the room. Illya didn’t move, hoping to find out more before they discovered he was awake.

       A soft voice erupted from the spot next to Illya on the bed, only then did he notice the extra weight sprawled across the sheets.

       “He has to. I mean, I’ve never seen him sleep this long,” Gaby’s voice was leaning towards anger and worry. A small hand brushed his hair and Illya held back from leaning into the touch. Deciding it was time, he let his eyes flutter open. His eyes immediately adjusted to the light streaming from a bedside lamp and the silhouette of Gaby stretched across the other side of the bed.

       “Welcome back to the land of the living, Peril.”

       Napoleon stepped behind Gaby to close the curtains, blocking out the view of the night sky. Gaby watched Illya with a strange look on her face. Her hair was in a sloppy braid and he could tell by the dark circles under her eyes, that she had been drinking or not sleeping, possibly both.

       Letting out a small groan as he sat up, Illya felt as though his body was a hundred pounds heavier than usual and his head pounded underneath the bandages he touched on his head. He could feel both Napoleon’s and Gaby’s eyes watching him as he stretched his split knuckles.

       His voice rumbled, his accent stronger than usual, “What happened?”

       Looking up, Illya glanced between their faces. Napoleon’s lips broke into a smile and Gaby’s face seemed to get more intense, if that was possible.

       “You saved the day!” Napoleon took a seat in a huge armchair after pulling the phone towards him. Illya watched him dial Waverly’s number and tell the receiver that Peril was finally awake.

       “More like, almost got yourself killed and then left me to drag your giant body down 2 flights of stairs before I could contact Napoleon about your condition,” Gaby crossed her arms and legs at the same time, her knees bumping into Illya’s. The bed didn’t have a lot of room after a 6’5” Russian was spread upon it, and despite Gaby’s small physique, her personality took up a lot of space.

       Illya ignored her glares and tried to remember last night…or the night before?

       “How long have I slept?”

       Gaby and Napoleon shared a look. Napoleon glanced at his watch before answering, “About 26 hours. Damn, longer than I thought.”

       “And the mission?” Illya grabbed the glass of water next to him, drinking until the glass was empty.

       “I told you he would ask about the stupid mission!” Gaby glared at Napoleon before whipping her gaze back to Illya. “Do you even care that you suffered a concussion? Or that you were shot twice?”

       That’s why his thigh and shoulder were throbbing uncontrollably. How stupid was he to get shot twice? Illya’s mind was a jumbled mess when he tried to remember the pain of getting the wounds. All he remembered was an arm wrapped around Gaby’s neck and a gun pointed at her head. There were at least 10 guys in the room where the folder they needed was and at least 200 rich business owners downstairs enjoying champagne. The last thing he fully remembered was his hands twitching to grab the knife hidden in his jacket and the sound of a gun shot.

       “We got the folder. Everything was there that we needed. Overall, a success.”

       Solo pulled him from his thoughts. Illya felt his pride settle in his chest as he let his head nod sharply.

       “A success? Really Napoleon?” Gaby’s fury seemed to be rising with each passing second. She stood up, trying to get some height on Illya (she tended to do that when her anger overflowed) and stomped to his side of the bed, where she squeezed her fists shut and scowled down at Illya. She could feel the anger and fear build up in her chest as she stared into his blue eyes. Illya saw Napoleon smirk out of the corner of his eye.

       “I had everything under control, until you decided to come barging in! If you had let me seduce him, like I was supposed to, then we would’ve walked out of that party without a scratch and the folder with us! But no, you had to get practically all of his bodyguards in one room and decide to fight them yourself. After you passed out, I was left to carry your giant ass downstairs without getting caught. So now, because you pissed me off so much and ruined one of my favorite dresses by bleeding all over it, you have to stay here while Napoleon and I get to finish the mission.”

       She crossed her arms to hide the shaking of her hands and took a deep breath. Gaby’s emotions were piling on top of each other deep in her stomach. She put an iron wall up so the tears wouldn’t show in her eyes. Illya’s eyes softened slightly as he took the scolding, but his jaw tensed immediately at the mention of the mission being ripped out from underneath him.

       “No.”

       Gaby felt her anger rise again, “Yes.”

       “Then you’re not going.” Illya answered flatly. Napoleon watched curiously as Gaby stretched as tall as she could get and leaned over Illya.

       “You have no say in this. I’m not yours to control Illya. I can take care of myself, I’ve proven that many times. I don’t need you to protect me.”

       Illya shook his head, his voice deep, “Obviously you do.”

       His hand reached out and touched the bruises covering her thin arms. His fingers lingered on the bandage wrapped around her bicep. Gaby felt her stomach twist painfully as his warm fingers brushed her skin.

       “Not all guys are gentle, Illya. I was perfectly fine; he was just a little rougher than I expected.” Illya watched her shoulders slowly slump down as she relaxed under his touch. Across the room, Napoleon cleared his throat obnoxiously and shoved his hands in his pockets.

       “I’m going to go update Waverly on everything. Don’t get too feisty now.” With a quick wink and smirk at Illya, Napoleon turned and left the room quickly. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of Illya’s eyes widening slightly after realizing that him and Gaby would be alone. Napoleon loved being the matchmaker.

       As the door clicked shut, Illya turned back to Gaby. She stared at the door a little longer before giving in and looking down at Illya when he pulled his legs out of the covers and rested them on both sides of Gaby’s legs. He only winced for a second before covering it back up with a stern look. Gaby’s pulse quickened as she let her legs scoot forward until her thighs hit the mattress. Illya’s eyes never left her face when she lifted a hand to touch the bandage on his head. She was so frustrated at the fact that all of her anger had been washed away by those damn blue eyes.

       Sighing, she let her hand rest against his warm cheek, “How do you feel?”

       “дерьмо.” Illya’s voice made her pulse jump. A small smile appeared on her face, and Illya felt a smirk pull on his lips. She was still learning, but she would always recognize that word with how often Illya uses it.

       “I feel like shit too.” Gaby let her other hand run through his blood flecked hair. His eyes closed for a quick second before meeting hers again.

       Illya lifted his right arm before the wound on his shoulder made him drop it and switch to the other arm. His large thumb lightly swept underneath her eye and over her cheek. His knees closed tighter around her legs, causing her to move closer, entrapped between his legs.

       His voice was low, “I can tell.”

       Gaby didn’t reply but her hand stilled in his hair. She watched Illya’s eyes glance at her lips as she licked them quickly. At this moment, Illya felt his control over everything slip up as his hand slid onto the side of her neck. He was sitting up ever so slowly, moving closer to her when she spoke.

       “I’m still going on the mission with Napoleon.”

       Gaby watched with fascination as Illya froze and his eyes grew dark again. It was amazing that she had this much control over him. She hadn’t noticed the immense gentleness in his face until she saw his jaw set again and his normal stern look return. His hand fell from her neck, leaving it cold and giving her goosebumps. His legs relaxed so she could take a tiny step back.

       A scowl filled his face as he rumbled angrily, “You are so stubborn.”

       Illya chastised himself for letting her get to him, for letting his control over his emotions completely disappear. He could just imagine Solo’s smiling face. He was supposed to be a hardened KGB agent, but the moment he was alone with this woman, he forgot that he could throw a motorbike or that he killed a few men less than a day ago.

       Gaby watched Illya retreat back into himself and couldn’t help but feel guilt climb up her throat. She almost reached out to him again, but the phone in the sitting room went off. Illya began to stand up before Gaby pushed his one good shoulder back down.

       “I’ll get it.”

       She took one last look at Illya before padding over to the phone and picking it up.

       Illya let his eyes follow her until she got to the phone. Knowing that Gaby or even Napoleon wouldn’t let him go on the last bit of the mission, Illya pulled his legs back onto the bed. He yanked the sheets over his legs and perked his head up as Gaby’s voice changed.

       “Napoleon? Ugh, I’ll kill him.” Her legs began to walk her back and forth across the rug. Her hand tightened on the phone. With a quick ‘yes sir’, she slammed the phone down. Illya raised an eyebrow as she rotated around to glare at him.

       “Something wrong?” Illya had guessed it as soon as Napoleon had left the room.

       “Napoleon says he can handle the mission on his own since, and I quote, ‘I work better alone anyway’. So Waverly is making me stay here and take care of you.”

       Gaby’s foot tapped rapidly as she crossed her arms and glared at the ceiling. Illya smiled quietly as he watched her. Finally, she looked back down and frowned at him. Illya felt like a different person when he tapped the spot on his left side.  

       “Come on, chop-shop girl.”

       Gaby’s cheeks flushed slightly at the nickname. Her arms fell to her sides as she shuffled over to the bed. Illya could feel his heartbeat in his throat as she climbed under the sheets next to him. She fell to her side and made sure her back was to him when Illya slowly scooted down under the sheets, making sure to keep his wounds in mind. Lying on his back, he turned his head to stare at her small back. Gaby squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn’t stop thinking about his face moving closer to hers not even five minutes ago. Sighing heavily, she rolled over onto her other side and met Illya’s gaze.

       “You should sleep.”

       Illya’s voice was the lowest she had ever heard it when he replied, “So should you.”

       Gaby rolled her eyes at him, but he was serious. Gaby was usually the last one to get up out of the 3 of them. Illya was so used to Russia that his body was constantly on a set timer and he woke up pretty early. It’s the main reason why Gaby and Napoleon were so surprised to see him sleep for such a long time. Napoleon was a soldier and never slept good anyway, so he was up late into the night and awake early in the day. Gaby on the other hand seemed to be able to sleep for days. Illya liked to think it was because her little body had to use so much energy to keep up with 2 guys twice her size. Napoleon and him usually remembered to slow their pace for Gaby’s short legs, but every once in a while, Illya would turn around to see Gaby jogging to keep up at random times.

       Gaby’s small hand brought Illya out of his thoughts. She let her fingers run along the stubble on his jaw and down his neck. Gaby’s throat was dry as she watched him swallow. Her hand continued to the wound on his right shoulder. She paused and felt his pulse underneath her fingertips.

       “You need to be more careful.”

       Illya rolled onto his good side to face her when she whispered those words. Her hand fell to the crook between his shoulder and neck as his eyes never left her face. She stared at her hand on his neck and tried to calm the tears that were threatening to appear.

       “It was for a good cause.” Illya spoke lowly. He was confused by the pinch between her eyebrows until he witnessed her lip just barely trembling. He had never seen Gaby shed a tear, but he could tell that she was holding back from crying.

       She took in a small, shaky breath. “Your blood was soaked through my dress, Illya. You were so pale after losing that much blood and I knew that you had smacked your head pretty hard after passing out.”

       She paused and finally met his eyes.

       “There was so much blood…I thought…you would bleed out before I could get you back. God, I was so scared Illya. I thought…”

       She trailed off and a single tear ran off her cheek onto the pillow. The moment Illya saw that tear, he knew he was never in control of anything and he never would be if it concerned Gaby. Ignoring the throbbing in his right arm and leg, he scooted closer until Gaby’s legs entangled with his and his right hand cupped her neck.

       He was a KGB agent with hands that could kill a man, but in this moment, those same hands brought Gaby’s lips to his. And as her mouth moved against his, Illya knew he was a goner, and he realized that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to not be in control for once.


End file.
